The Weasel and The Ferret
by Beyond Stone Walls
Summary: Ron Weasley. Draco Malfoy. Two bitter enemies, facing off near the Forbidden Forest. 5th year. OotP as well as 1-4th books -compliant. NOT Slash. Rated T, just in case. Two-shot.


A/N: A two-shot between Draco Malfoy and Ron Weasley, as role-played on the RPG site Beyond Stone Walls. Here is part one! Please enjoy!

Disclaimer: We do not own Harry Potter, or anything related to it. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

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The Weasel and The Ferret: Part One

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Draco's POV

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Weekends were always welcomed, it didn't really matter who you were. You didn't have to get up at a certain time. You could slip out of those stuffy school robes for a little bit. And of course, no classes. But sadly this was not a weekend. In fact, it was the exact opposite. Monday was always the worst for Draco Malfoy. Not necessarily because there was something about Monday that made it harder than any other day, but because all day he had to listen to stupid prats who thought they were clever. That's Monday for you, eh Draco? Monday already, where did my weekend go? You wasted it away you bloody git. Just like your entire bloody life up to this point. Now stop whining and go do something worth while before I find a way to personally blame you for every school rule broken this month. This reaction, was of course, the only thing running through his mind by the hundredth time he heard some lame quip about what bloody day of the week it is.

Potions was a disaster of course. The always reliable combination of Potter, Weasley, and Longbottom had of course found a way to screw everything up and cause the whole room to smell like had died, rotted, came back to life, and then died again. Though he did have to admit it was always fun watching Snape chew the three of them out time and time again. Draco admired the potion master's ability to find a unique way of insulting them every time they fouled up. But it still didn't make dealing with the odor any easier.

He didn't think the day could possibly get any more annoying. Until he overheard a conversation two Ravenclaw girls were having. About Monday of course. The only thing that stopped him from marching over to them and taking about a few hundred points from Ravenclaw was the rumbling of his stomach. A nice lunch, and then he could enjoy the rest of the day off until Astronomy that night. Technically they still had Charms and History of Magic, but he really doubted the goblin of a charms teacher would have the guts to comment on missing Inquisitorial Squad members, and when was the last time Binns even took attendance?

Lunch was actually very delicious that day. Some fish and chips with a nice pudding on the side. The pleasantness of lunch was almost enough to off set all the whining he had been forced to tolerate that day. Almost. But at least Pansy was easily swayed to his plan of saying bugger to the rest of the day's classes. She seemed about as fed up as he did. Mentally, Draco was smirking. He would really hate to be the first person to cross the gang today. He also hoped it was Potter or Weasley. They could always use to be dropped down a peg or twenty.

After lunch, the Slytherin gang made their way to a little out of the way spot just inside the Forbidden Forest. It wasn't really far enough in to actually be dangerous, but it was however enough to keep the normal rift raft away. So the clearing had become something of a haven for Draco. Here he could at least get some time away from all the bloody Monday talk.

After a few minutes of hearing Pansy go on about how utterly ghastly Granger's hair was today, Crabbe brought his attention to something heading their way from the school. The blond looked in the direction that the sausage like finger was pointing and a cruel smirk curled on his lips. The flaming red hair. The awkward way he made moved. The long, lanky limbs. It could be none other than Ronald Weasley himself.

"What are you doing out here Weaslebee? Begging for change?" Draco taunted as Ron seemingly unknowingly walked into their territory. With his trademark smirk, Draco walked closer to his prey with Crabbe and Goyle not too far behind. "What, did you finally get tired of hearing Saint Potter cry about how his parents are dead? Or did you wise up and start crying because yours are still alive?" He then took a bronze coin out of his pocket and threw it at Ron's shoes. "Come on Weaslebee, knut for your thoughts?"

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Ron's POV

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When Ronald Weasley woke up this morning, he was quite chipper and happy for it being so early. In fact, he was feeling so good that he thought that perhaps today would be the day he would ask Hermione-or hell, Lavender-out officially. Perhaps today was the day that Ronald "The King" Weasley would finally get an "O+" on his potions essay that he had worked _so_ hard on during the weekend and the entire week previously, and maybe, just_maybe_, the House Elves would prepare him a breakfast feast fit for a King.

Or rather, "The King", Ronald Weasley.

...Just kidding.

When Ronald Weasley woke up Monday morning, the first thing he did was roll over and go back to sleep. When he awoke some hours later, he realized that he had completely skipped breakfast, had missed Transfiguration, and just barely had time to throw on some robes, collect his things, and make his way down to the Potions classroom.

...Where he promptly realized that he, of course, did not do his essay. The overgrown bat-erm, that is to say,_Professor Snape_-was especially rude to Ron, making snide comments and smirking at Ron's pitiful attempt for a potion. _At least he didn't give me a detention!_Ron thought, attempting to think positively.

Which, of course, was when Snape had ended up giving him detention. Which in itself was utterly horrifying, but it didn't help that he also took away twenty points for Ron's stomach growling loudly not even ten minutes after he had assigned Ron the detention.

_It's not my fault that I missed breakfast!_ Ron had opened his mouth to say, his ears rapidly turning red. Opening his mouth but then closing it after realizing that it was _indeed_ his fault, he bowed his head, furiously fuming as he hacked his wormroot to pieces. _Sodding git!_

He couldn't be sure, but Ron would forever after swear to himself that his loss of another ten points for "lack of finesse", was truly because Snape had read his mind and "overheard" his thought.

_The git doesn't have to look so smug about it!_

By the end of Potions, Ron all by himself, had lost Gryffindor thirty-five points.

By Merlin's saggy left _you-know-what_, Ron _hated _Mondays.

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_Mondays are the most glorious days of the week_, Ron decided happily as he munched on a large turkey leg at the Gryffindor Table. Without fail, food could always cheer Ron up. _Thank Merlin something finally went right today._

As he swallowed a particularly delicious portion of Yorkshire pudding, he looked directly above him. It looked like it was a beautiful day outside, only a few clouds in the sky. Wiping his chin, and drinking more pumpkin juice, he considered for a moment whether or not he should start his Divination homework.

Glancing at his textbook for the class that lay in his bookbag, _The Dream Oracle_ by Inigo Imago, he shook his head and smiled. _Death and mayhem await... later._Standing up, he found himself strolling out onto the grounds.

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_Evil: Thy name be Monday, _Ron thought to himself bitterly as the blissful feeling from the food he had just finished eating bled away, leaving an awful pit in his stomach and a stormy expression on his freckled face.

Somehow, Ron found himself walking along the edge of the Forbidden Forest. It was only a few weeks ago that Hagrid had introduced himself, Harry, and Hermione to Grawp. Ron shook his head, walking slowly along the treeline. Hagrid certainly did wind up in the weirdest situations.

First Aragog (here Ron shuddered, his irrational fear almost overwhelming him as he took an involuntary step _away_from the forest), then Fluffy, then Norbert, then Buckbeak, then... those freaks that Hagrid had been crossbred from a manticore and a firecrab last year for the Triwizard Tournament. The Blast-Ended Skrewts were definitely almost the worst of the lot.

Granted, Ron was slightly biased as Aragog had ordered all of his... children... to feast on both Harry and himself. Thank Merlin the car had saved them!

Speaking of which...

Ron stopped and pondered for a moment whatever had happened to the Ford Anglia. The thing had certainly been turned wild by the forest, but Ron still owed the car his life. "Car", or the Ford Anglia, was probably driving around the forest, chasing (as well as being chased by) over-zealous centaurs. Or (and this theory was more likely), it had simply run out of juice soon after Ron and Harry had their final encounter with the almost-sentient machine.

_"What are you doing out here Weaslebee? Begging for change?"_ Ron stopped immediately, his thoughts clearing as a groan escaped from his lips._"What, did you finally get tired of hearing Saint Potter cry about how his parents are dead? Or did you wise up and start crying because yours are still alive?" _Draco then took a bronze coin out of his pocket and threw it at Ron's shoes. Ron watched the coin as it hit the dirt, bouncing onto his right shoe. _"Come on Weaslebee, knut for your thoughts?"_

Ron's ears were flaming, his hands clenching into fists. "Eat dung, Ferret-face," he shot back immediately without any thought. Taking a deep breath, he frowned. It would _not_be a good idea to start a fight here. True, there weren't any Professors around (although Hagrid's Hut was a ways further down the treeline), but Ron didn't exactly fancy his chances of winning against four Slytherins.

Granted, the two Trolls that lumbered behind him wouldn't be that hard to take down with a couple quick_Stupefy_s, but Pansy and Malfoy were also smarter than the two of them were. Not by much, granted, but still.

If things got _really_ bad, he could introduce Grawp to four new... playmates. His mind froze for a moment-_what did he just wish on them?_ That was an all-together positively awful, and-here Ron mentally cringed-_Dark_thought. Telling himself firmly that he would _not_ be introducing them to Grawp any time soon, he quickly glanced around. _Bloody hell Ron, the situations you put yourself in!_ Ron really did _not_want to have to deal with this now.

Just the same, Ron prepared himself for a less than favorable encounter as he attempted to subtly grab his wand from within his pocket, trying to slink around the four slimy Slytherin gits. "I reckon I've had a _really_ bad day, so if you don't mind..." Here, Ron's blue eyes met Draco's grey, teeth clenching as he spit out the words. "Let me through, or I'll show you just exactly _how_ bad."

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Draco's POV

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"Dung Weasley? Honestly, just because that's all you family can afford to eat doesn't mean the rest of have the same diet. Though, it would explain your breath" Draco taunted with a smirk as his cronies laughed. Draco honestly considered Ron the most likely student in the school to fly off the handle and start some kind of altercation. But as thick as he was, Draco never expected the Weasley to do so when he was so outnumbered. So Draco felt pretty safe with his chances. Plus, without Potter around, he had to assume he would have the upper hand anyway.

So with a very satisfied smile, The Slytheirn Prince watched as the trademark Ron Weasley signs of anger. He was far too easy. It gave Draco a twisted since of control. With just a few words, he could ruin the blood-traitor's day, and make his all that much better. Not to mention give him an excuse to dock a few more points from Gryffindor. Oh, and didn't Gryffindor have a quidditch match soon? That just made everything better. Get him riled up and see what kind of mess he makes out on the pitch. That was always good for a laugh.

_"I reckon I've had a really bad day, so if you don't mind...Let me through, or I'll show you just exactly how bad."_

"Oh, well then excuse me. I didn't know you had such _pressing _concerns. We'll let you right on through to continue your bad day in whatever way you had planned." Draco taunted, his voice dull and sarcastic. Draco and Crabbe split off from Goyle, with a rather falmboyant arm gesture from Draco, to give Ron a wide opening between the Slytherins. After Ron had created a small amount of Distance, the group regathered and Draco draped his arms around Crabbe and Goyle's shoulders and spoke up loudly. "Where are our manners boys? We have royalty in our presence, and we forgot to greet him with the royal song."

The three of them cleared their throats and then started singing in an overly mocking tone. _"Weasley is our King, Weasley is our King, he always lets the Quaffle in, Weasley is our King."_ After the first verse was completed the three of them broke into laughter, of course accompanied by Pansy's shrill laughs a short distance away. "What's the matter now Weasley? If you turn any redder I'm going to have to shield my eyes. Hey Pansy, is it me, or is he starting to match his dress robes from last year?"

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Ron's POV

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_"Weasley is our King, Weasley is our King, he always lets the Quaffle in, Weasley is our King." After the first verse was completed the three of them broke into laughter, of course accompanied by Pansy's shrill laughs a short distance away._

_This has __not __been my day. Bloody hell._

Ron's grip tightened around his wand as his face turned an even darker shade of red, becoming almost puce. Ron had never taken insults very well, and his Gryffindor-but more importantly, his _Weasley_-pride demanded compensation (retribution) for the slights that the slimy snakes had inflicted on him. Needless to say, the situation was deteriorating quickly. Having already slipped past Malfoy and his bodyguard gorillas, he took another several steps forward before coming to a grinding halt as Malfoy's voice taunted after him.

_"What's the matter now Weasley? If you turn any redder I'm going to have to shield my eyes. Hey Pansy, is it me, or is he starting to match his dress robes from last year?"_

Ronald Bilius Weasley, Gryffindor Prefect, Gryffindor Keeper, Devourer of Delicious Food, Chess Champion, Tamer of Gnomes, and Best Friend to Harry Potter, slowly turned around on his heel, blue eyes darkening. His expression stormy, his right hand twitching ever so slightly as he repetitively opened his hand before clenching it into a fist; his eyes narrowing as they darted back and forth at the imposing figures of the other Slytherins as well as Malfoy, who was still draped between his goons, the twin gorilla wonders. With a tight smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, which glinted dangerously and conveying a warning of barely restrained but pure, malignant rage, Ron drew his wand slowly. "I hear you call yourself the 'Slytherin Prince' these days, Malfoy. More like 'Slytherin _Ponce_' if you ask me."

Ron's eyes fixated themselves on the hulking forms of the brutes known as Crabbe and Goyle, before returning his stare to Malfoy, his mouth curved into a sneer. "Scared, Malfoy? I reckon I _am_ rather frightening," he stated slowly, his imperious stare meeting Malfoy's eyes once more, challenging him. "I s'pose you need 'Ug' and 'Ly'"-Ron gestured towards Crabbe and Goyle, respectively-"here to fight your battles for you, eh? I reckon they don't understand a single word either of us just said! Merlin... how did _either_ of you brutes get through _four years_ of Hogwarts?" Ron couldn't keep the incredulous tone out of his voice. His attention focused once more upon Malfoy, his eyes dark; his voice low and almost bestial. "_I'm willing to bet you couldn't beat me without either of the two trolls behind you._"

Ron's wand was vertical to the ground, wand-tip pointed straight down as his hand gripped its handle tighter._Malfoy is all talk, but I should still be ready just in case,_ Ron thought to himself, trying to assess how he could win in a situation as bad as this one. His weight shifted as he stepped into a more defensive position. Ron's stomach grumbled, but to Ron it felt like a rallying roar for battle. _Glad to see my stomach for once is in agreement with the rest of my body._ Once again, Ron's stomach gurgled, and Ron felt it was his stomach's way of acknowledging its stance-hungry, but ready for battle. Ignoring the sense of impending doom, and telling it to go stuff itself (to which his stomach gurgled angrily, which of course Ron took to assume that it would _love_to stuff itself, in turn prompting Ron internally tell it to shut up), Ron continued his taunts.

"How does it feel, _Ponce_, to know that your father licks the boots of a-what would you call him again? Oh, right-a '_Filthy Half-Blood_'. High and mighty Draco Malfoy, who," here Ron viciously twisted his tone to mock Malfoy, unknowingly channeling Bellatrix Lestrange with a false-baby voice. "Wuns to Daddy ev'wy time he has a pwobwem." With an amount of malicious glee that surprised even him, but body still in a defensive dueling position honed from hours and hours of practice in and with the DA, Ron coldly smiled at the Slytherin Ponce. "That's right, isn't it Malfoy. Running to your pathetic Death Eater of father always solves _everything_..." Ron's grip on his wand tightened even more, as his taunts became more and more vicious. Another small, tight smile stretched across his face, again not quite reaching his eyes. _If I can get Malfoy to attack me first..._

"Come at me, Malfoy... _If you dare_."

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A/N: Review if this interested you! Thanks for reading!

~Until next time,

BSW


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